Pakistani actors cringe at the way love scenes are portrayed in their country
Who or what is the biggest casualty of cultural censorship in cinema from the subcontinent?
It's not the usual suspects of bold themes, controversial topics or sensitive dialogue. Apparently it's the kiss. Or rather the manipulations, which filmmakers rely on in order to depict a lip lock without actually showing it.
"It's just nauseating," Pakistani actress Nadia Jamil says of the alternatives used to signify an intimate on-screen moment. Jamil, who features in A Long Night (see box) demonstrates the cinematic moment of embarrassment that she believes makes the act vulgar and believes cinema is better off without these crassly executed innuendos.
Adjusting her hair, Jamil explains. "The heroine will lick her lips, mind you fully clothed, and then they'll show beads of sweat trickling down the pair's necks. That's allowed and then the camera zooms in to her heaving her bosom to indicate desire. And that's supposed to be sensual," she says lashing out at what she says borders on "clothed soft pornography".
Though her colleagues on the film, actor Faisal Rahman and director Hasan Zaidi can't help laughing at her fine performance of ridicule, they are only too familiar with this scenario.
"Worse is the cut aways that are used to hide the act, especially in films that revolve around a rural setting," Zaidi says of a film he recently watched.
"The viewer is led on to the lovemaking act, but then the image shifts to a woman milking a cow and a final spray of milk. You figure," he says.
Having vociferously expressed their loathing of the unseen scene, the three of them are absolutely certain that they're not comfortable watching "desis [people from the subcontinent] kiss on screen."
"No I don't find it attractive at all. I think it's because of our culture. We don't see it happen in public so it just seems a bit unnatural on screen," says Rahman, who has never kissed on screen. As an actor that easily crosses over from mainstream movies that are of the song and dance nature into television and also independent cinema, Rahman acknowledges that reel kisses may make headlines, but do not make for pleasant viewing.
"The awkwardness of the actors comes out on screen. You can clearly tell that as actors there's a lot of baggage on their minds in terms of culture, society and that translates onto the visual medium. So it just ends up looking tacky," Zaidi says.
As a director he feels that censorship acts on two other levels, including state censorship, which according to him, is as good or bad in Pakistan as it is in any other country.
"Sometimes I think it's the least imposing of all South Asian countries," he says talking about times when documentaries and films that were denied releases in India, found an open platform in Pakistan.
And it's not only because the themes were perceived as anti-Indian. "Festivals in Pakistan have screened films that have revolved around the Bangladesh war and controversial societal themes such as homosexuality, prostitution . . .so it's pretty open."
However, the three do lament about a lack of cinema that's intelligent and commercial.
"They're either too formulaic or too repetitive as parallel cinema," Jamil says, hoping that an exchange of work and ideas with India will result in more options.
"It's slowly going beyond the peace and partition themes and I'm hoping that actors from countries will be chosen by merit and not by nationality."